“You men back there!” he cried. “If I give you my word to let every one of you go free and pledge myself never to recognize one of you again, will you make Mary here listen to me? That's all I ask. I want a few minutes to state my case. Give me that. Whether I win or lose, you men go free, and I'll forget everything that has happened here to-night.” There came a muffled guffaw of laughter from the big chest of Chicago Red at this extraordinarily ingenuous proposal, while Dacey chuckled more quietly.
Dick made a gesture of impatience at this open derision.
“Tell them I can be trusted,” he bade Mary curtly.
It was Garson who answered.
“I know that you can be trusted,” he said, “because I know you lo——” He checked himself with a shiver, and out of the darkness his face showed white.
“You must listen,” Dick went on, facing again toward the girl, who was trembling before him, her eyes by turns searching his expression or downcast in unfamiliar confusion, which she herself could hardly understand.
“Your safety depends on me,” the young man warned. “Suppose I should call for help?”
Garson stepped forward threateningly.
“You would only call once,” he said very gently, yet most grimly. His hand went to the noiseless weapon in his coat-pocket.
But the young man's answer revealed the fact that he, too, was determined to the utmost, that he understood perfectly the situation.